


Broken Little Lion

by AnotherAnon0, sweetNsimple



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Canon Rewrite, Captivity, Emotional Manipulation, Game: Resident Evil 2, Holy Water, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, More tags will be added!, Movie: Resident Evil: Vendetta, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Service Submission, Sexuality Crisis, Stockholm Syndrome, Top!Nikolai/bottom!Leon, Training, Urination, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-24 09:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherAnon0/pseuds/AnotherAnon0, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: Taken captive by Nikolai Zinoviev during the Raccoon City Incident, Leon S. Kennedy learns and adjusts to his new role under Nikolai's thumb.[Read and Heed Tags!]
Relationships: Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Leon S. Kennedy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AA0: Hello, readers! Welcome to the premier SweetNSimplexAnotherAnon0 collaboration! This story will shift between Raccoon City and post-Raccoon City events, following Nikolai during and after he sets his sights on Leon. Enjoy!

_2014_

His dear friend Maria was standing by the door when Arias arrived.

He had been alerted of a presence in his New York penthouse and had made his way over with more intrigue than trepidation. Arias was not a man to fear death. Not anymore. Therefore, he regarded his guest with amicable curiosity instead of hostility. This could prove to be important. In his living room were two chaises across from one another separated by a low table. At one of these couches was a... man. If Arias was to be amused by anything in this godforsaken and cruel world, it would be that this man shared a fashion sense with Maria in that both wore nothing but black leather and stilettos. This man's knee-high boots sported thicker heels and noticeably deeper tread compared to Maria's more fashionable and delicate pair, making them appear semi-reasonable for everyday wear.

It was the treads that interested Arias. They showed sensibility. Purpose. They suggested that this man invested his resources wisely instead of for aesthetic or pride. 

The man was cleanshaven, brunette hair purposely mussed to fall just so over his forehead and brushing against one cheek, teasing at the idea that he had just rolled out of bed... or that, perhaps, he enjoyed some hair pulling _in_ bed. His leather pants were skintight and tucked into his boots, a thick leather collar encircling his neck, and a heavy chest harness crossed his bare chest. The man _was_ wearing a black button-down shirt with three quarter sleeves, but had opted, for whatever reason, to leave all the buttons undone. One visible nipple was pierced with a golden barbell and the other pectoral was covered by a gun holster, held in place by the harness. 

Arias was a smart man. Either this stranger had chosen the boots _or_ the outfit, but certainly not both. If he had to guess, he would say that this man had been sent to him on behalf of someone else. It was only a matter of finding out who that could be.

The man's hazel eyes watching him without blinking, face smooth of expression. He had one arm hooked over the back of the furniture, his right boot planted on the edge of the low table between them. His body was open, inviting, and off-limits. 

This man, Arias decided, was a trap. Fortunately, Arias was decidedly heterosexual. The man did provide some aesthetic pleasure, however, and Arias enjoyed the artwork of his lithe and muscular body, his clean-shaven torso and face. 

Well, Perhaps Arias was not _entirely_ straight.

It would be best to get to work.

Arias offered a smile to his guest as he strolled through his penthouse and took a seat across from him. "Hello, friend. I imagine we have some business to discuss that must be vitally important?" 

The man tilted his head just slightly, lips ticking up at the corner and eyes squinting for a mere second - an expression of incredible sarcasm for such a reasonable question. 

"No, I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought this would be a nice place to sit," the stranger drawled. His lips, Arias realized, were very glossy. He was wearing some sort of dark pink lipstick or chapstick. 

"Would you care for a drink while you sit?" Arias offered courteously. 

"You don't have anything strong enough for me. I already checked. Besides, I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be. I have other things I'd rather be doing." 

"Such as?" Arias asked kindly, though his eyes trailed purposely over the stranger. 

His perusal was noticed and the man's dry, unimpressed expression returned. "Not you, first of all." The man pushed himself up to his feet. He reached behind him and pulled out a small white envelope that he let drop on the table. "This is for you. You've been served."

"Have I? Could you read it to me, please? What have I been served?" 

"Don't worry, the letter only uses small words. You'll manage." 

"I would rather you not leave until I have read it. Just in case I have to send a response with you." 

The man's heavy-lidded stare tilted again in the other direction. "Do you think you're worth my time, Arias? Because you're not. If you find that you have questions, or you want to argue, then that's not my problem. You'll figure it out, won't you? You're a smart boy, I've heard." 

Arias smiled, but it was more teeth than charisma at this point. He nodded his head and heard the click-clack of Marias's heels as she came to his side, her eyes unblinking on the intruder.

"Oh, please, then, entertain me for just another minute," Arias demurred. "Might I know the name of my guest and my correspondent?" 

The stranger gave the slightest unamused smile. "I'm guessing you're not calling _me_ your correspondent." 

"I have the feeling that you are simply the messenger." 

"I'm a little more than that. But, sure. I guess I can give you another minute just to make sure you understand how fucked you are if you don't stop what you're doing now." 

Arias's smile fell off his face completely. "What do you mean?" 

"I am Nikolai Zinoviev's Little Lion," the man introduced himself. The title was very telling. First of all, this man saw himself as someone else's possession. Second of all, Arias was apparently dealing with some remnant of Umbrella that he had thought long gone. 

He had not heard the name Nikolai in years, but he had most certainly heard it. His entire body went stiff and it was all he could do to not let his tension show to the other man. 

Oh, but it showed. The younger man smiled again, sharp and hungry. "That's right," he practically purred. "You know who that is, don't you? You're causing trouble for us. Stop now or we will stop you." 

Arias swallowed thickly. "Us?" 

"You don't need to worry about the _us_. Just worry about _you_. Got it?" 

Arias rubbed a hand over his jaw. So far, he was only aware of Nikolai and his "Little Lion" in this 'us'. Was Umbrella not as dead as he had initially thought? Or was Nikolai independent and felt threatened by Arias's empire? And who was this leather-clad man in all of this? Was he simply Nikolai's whore and messenger? Or could he actually be dangerous? 

"Letter's here," NiKolai's Little Lion reminded him. He strolled toward them and then past them, opting to leave through the front door. 

Maria moved as if to stop him. For a moment, Arias almost let her. They could use the man as collateral. Get more information out of him. He could be useful if they kept him.

Arias was a smart man, however. He gently touched Maria's arm and stilled her, allowing the man to leave uninterrupted. 

Nikolai's Little Lion had either chosen the boots or the outfit. If he saw himself as someone else's possession, then the collar was a symbol of that ownership. The outfit was Nikolai's choice. The boots had to be Leon's, which showed some willingness on Nikolai's part to give his little boytoy some freedom. If Nikolai Zinoviev, Silver Wolf of the Soviet Union's _Spetsnaz,_ independent contractor, and former Umbrella sergeant, was willing to give a toy power, then that meant he had some measurement of respect for this man. Respect was earned. Either the boy had been dangerous when Nikolai found him or Nikolai had made him dangerous. Either way, fighting him was not worth risking Maria. 

There were too many variables unaccounted for. It was better to not fight now, not until Arias knew more. 

He waited for the sound of the boy's boots to completely fade away before he snatched up the letter and began reading.

By the last words, his hands were shaking. There was no doubt in his mind that if he followed through with his plans, he would be killed. And yet... Well. Arias was not afraid of death, was he? No, not any more. 

Damn the repercussions. New York was going to _burn_.

~:~

Nikolai was lounging on the windowsill, eyes appearing shut though they were open just a slit so that he could see through his eyelashes. The wheelchair had not moved in more than twelve hours. The hulking, deformed lump strapped into it was waiting with inhuman patience. Nothing of the creature could be seen from beneath a vibrant red blanket that hid all of its features and that was for the best. Nikolai had seen what was under there and his dear friend was more hideous than a rotten carcass. 

Unfortunately, Sergei had also come to smell like a rotten carcass. With just a taste of charred flesh. 

It was of no concern to Nikolai, though. He had long since gotten used to this version of his longtime friend. It was not the first carcass he had seen or smelled either. 

What made him want to leave, however, was that his anniversary with his boy was coming up. How many years had it been since he had first found his boy? First tasted him? That had been September of 1998 and it was now 2014. Almost twenty years, he had kept this boy. What should they do to celebrate? 

Perhaps a new toy. His boy loved his vibrators. Loved to feel the vibrations so strong that they shook his lungs, loved to play for hours until he was weeping with pain. 

"What... are you... thinking about?" A voice hissed and growled at the same time. Sergei's mouth was not what it had been and his noises were gravelly and garbled, deep as if they were growled from the depths of his chest. "I can smell... heat. Lust." 

Nikolai opened one eye more fully. "Almost fourteen years ago, I picked my boy out of Raccoon City before it all went to shit. I am applauding myself on my excellent decision making." 

"Raccoon City..." The voice husked. The blanket moved as a head moved underneath it, rising as if the creature beneath was staring straight ahead now instead of down at its lap. "An excellent performance."

The funniest part about the downfall of Umbrella was everyone else believing that Umbrella actually fell. No, Umbrella had simply... faded from view. Played dead until no one was watching and then slithered away, continuing on with business behind the scenes. All these years, all these new events of bioterroristic horror, and Umbrella had, in one way or another, caused most of them. Building discontent, playing enemies against enemies and turning allies into enemies. 

The enemy you know is the enemy you prepare for. The enemy you don't see coming is the enemy that kills you. 

This Arias, however... was playing a very stupid game. Did he not understand that he could only help the B.S.A.A. and the D.S.O. if he succeeded? By acting out like a child, his actions would force America to reconsider its approach to internal events of bioterrorism. It had taken years to make it so that the B.S.A.A., while based in America, was not actually allowed to function in the States without extensive permission from the government. If Arias did what he wanted, there would be a demand for reform. 

Umbrella had worked too hard from the shadows for the B.S.A.A. to gain power anywhere. 

There was a knock at the door to the suite. Nikolai slid off the sill and crossed the room, opening the door. 

His boy looked up at him with smoldering hazel eyes, a smile spreading his glossy lips. 

"Hey there, handsome," his boy drawled. He reached out and played with the V-neck collar of Nikolai's shirt. "Heard you were looking for a good time..." His boy leaned in, so near that their mouths almost - but didn't - touch. "I can show you the best." 

"Little tease," Nikolai murmured. He clenched his hands on his boy's waist and swung him into the suite and up against his chest.

His little lion giggled as he wrapped his strong legs around Nikolai's waist, arms looping over his shoulders. "Mm. _your_ little tease, baby." 

There was a chuckle from the wheelchair. The covered figure had turned its head, presumably looking right at them.

"Ah, to be in love." Sergei sighed whimsically. 

Nikolai ignored him. "Did anyone touch you?" 

His boy shook his head. "You know I don't let anyone touch what's yours." 

Nikolai smirked. _What's his_ indeed. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ 1998 _

**_WELCOME LEON_ **

Nikolai snorted as he panned his flashlight over the chipper, dangling sign. 

He shifted his light towards the stupid balloons and star-shaped decorations lingering in the air, silver brow cocking in a mix of amusement and disgust. Ever the prudish soldier, he internally condemned the display of garish celebration in what was meant to be a building of law and order. 

He made quick work of the collective office space, searching through drawers, scanning bookshelves and tossing boxes about in his quest to locate anything of use. He breezed by the few undead who wandered the large room, ignoring them casually as a waste of his bullets and time as they attempted to impotently stagger around simple obstacles too complex for their deteriorated minds.

Though most of the room was filled with a number of desks tightly packed together like cubicles, Nikolai noticed a separate office near the back of the room -- one advertised as belonging to whoever the Lieutenant had been. He stopped inside to take a look, quickly scanning the contents of the shelving unit before turning his sights on the computer. 

The cracked screen flashed to life when he wriggled the mouse a few times, sighing in annoyance when the computer prompted him for a five-digit passcode. 

"This better not work." He grunted, childishly deciding to type in _ **1-2-3-4-5**_. His eyes rolled in near-disappointment when he was immediately granted access to the desktop, "American police are _unbelievable_."

As Nikolai began to skim through the Lieutenant's most recent correspondence, he heard the door to the main office open.

Ragged breathing. 

A meep of fear. 

Shuffling boots on laminate flooring. 

**_BANG BANG BANG_ **

Nikolai peeked through the broken blinds of the small window which would have given the Lieutenant purview into the rest of the room. By the very main entrance, he could see a gun being fired, bright lights from the casings being discharged obscuring the form of whoever was issuing the shots.

Someone was attempting to pepper bullets into the few undead in the office -- the ones Nikolai had so casually waddled by. He was emptying his magazine like bullets were free and readily accessible, poorly-aimed shots slapping into the sauntering corpses desperately. Nikolai snorted as he watched. Clearly, the work of an amateur -- perhaps someone who didn't know how to wield a gun properly.

**_BANG BANG BANG_ **

Nikolai had observed many survivors in his time in Raccoon City. He enjoyed seeing their death throes -- their final attempts at clinging onto their fleeting mortality. The lengths they would go to, or perhaps had _already_ gone to, in order to stay alive. Some lucky ones who had found guns were often as sloppy as whoever was in the office, wasting magazines on unnecessary targets.

Usually, it would be the prologues to their lives ending. The feeble _click-click-click_ of an empty chamber usually preceding the blood-curdling screams of a summary execution by flesh being torn from their bodies.

Nikolai assumed that was what was going to be coming next, and he quickly returned to the computer to continue his search. It wasn't his job to rescue civilians after all.

Not _officially_ , anyway.

_**BANG BANG BANG** _

The shots continued to be fired while Nikolai made curious notes of some codes he found in a folder on the desktop of the computer. 

**_BANG BANG BANG_ **

Nikolai sniffled when the incessant firing finally stopped. The gunpowder hazing through the room was irritating his nose.

"F-fuck... That was close..." 

His ears perked up when he heard an exacerbated voice tin through the room. He returned to the window, glancing outwards in utter surprise when he saw the person was still standing, and all of the undead had been floored. 

He pursed his lips in interest when he managed to finally get a better look at him -- no longer obscured by bullet shots.

The man was young... Very young. He had tousled blond hair casually framed around his unwrinkled, unscarred face, one that was glistening with the sweat of fear and exhaustion. But despite his boyish look, he was donned in a badged uniform which clearly indicated he was a police officer.

The man sighed and looked upwards at the same sign Nikolai had first noticed when he walked in. 

"Welcome... Leon." He read, groaning loudly, "Yeah... thanks guys. A great first day..."

Nikolai smirked at the self-pity, eyes trailing the man as he quickly ushered through the long room and towards the door across from the office Nikolai was in. He rummaged through his pockets, taking out a large, strange-looking key and fiddling with the lock on the solid metal door.

The moment his back was towards the window, Nikolai noticed the bold, white lettering on the back of his bulletproof vest. 

**R.P.D** , it read proudly -- crisp embroidery almost guaranteeing the uniform was new.

The Russian's eyes trailed the man's body, assessing what equipment he might be carrying on his utility belt and in his hip pouches. Nothing of tremendous value or use, Nikolai determined quickly.

Just before he disappeared through the door, Nikolai allowed himself an unsuppressed, lecherous glance at his pert, round bottom.

"So you're _Leon_ , hmm?" 

~:~

Nikolai had rapidly forgotten about the blond boy as he continued through the station, searching for the S.T.A.R.S office.

He had a mission to complete, and assumed the boy had been met by the statistically guaranteed fate the rest of the city had already succumbed to. If he hadn't, he would. All in due time.

Nikolai casually skipped through the halls, kicking the heads of the fallen, crawling undead as he walked to keep himself entertained. If anything, he was beginning to feel this mission was _too_ easy.

He'd already collected enough baseline combat data to fulfil his foundational contract, collected a number of samples, killed Bard, and identified at least one of the N-type tyrant's transmutations. Everything else was just a fat bonus, and Sergei had already told him where the city's helicopter hangar was. He could leave at any time, but had chosen to stick around. He had a price in his head, and he had made a game out of not leaving before he hit that number.

Nikolai found the S.T.A.R.S office on the second floor of the R.P.D station. He disposed of the few undead in the hall who were lingering by the door, and entered the room with his weapon drawn in case any surprises awaited him inside. Fortunately, the relatively small workspace was empty. 

From Sergei's constant ranting, he knew full-well what had happened in Arklay earlier that year. And he knew some of the surviving members of S.T.A.R.S who had been deployed to the mountains had become irredeemably nosey about Umbrella and its workings. If there was any information on what the local governments had on Umbrella -- it would have been there in that office.

He began to poke around the desks, carelessly rummaging through the drawers and setting aside whatever keys and floppy disks he wanted to analyse further.

While looking through one desk, Nikolai found a packaged oatmeal bar, and almost sighed in relief. He hadn't eaten in days, 

"Thanks..." Nikolai looked around for the nameplate, "Chris."

He peeled open the plastic wrapper, stuffing the corner of the cloyingly sweet breakfast treat in his mouth before moving to a locker he noticed on the opposite wall from the desks. 

Just as he opened it, snatching up the handgun bullets he found within, he heard the door to the office rattle rapidly. The door smashed against the wall loudly before being slammed shut again, ragged gasps and peeping pants immediately telling Nikolai it couldn't have been an undead. He quickly drew his SIGpro regardless, holding his arm straight out and waiting for whoever it was to round the corner into the office while continuing to nibble on his oatmeal bar.

A split second later, a familiar blue-suited body emerged into the office.

 _Leon_.

"Gah! Ah!" He gasped in shock when he turned, immediately greeted with the barrel of Nikolai's gun, stumbling in such surprise he dropped his own weapon stupidly, "W-wait, w-wait! I'm human!"

"Mm..." Nikolai chewed, arm slowly following the young man as he bobbed to the ground to grab his little handgun and stood up, wringing it awkwardly in his hands like he was uncertain if he should aim as well.

"I'm no-not dead. I'm not bitten, either!" He said, swallowing and clearly attempting to regain some composure, "Lower that!"

Nikolai cocked his head to the side, taking another bite of the oatmeal bar before deciding to comply. Not because he had any reservations about shooting the young man -- but rather interested if there was anything he might be able to add to his search for information. Perhaps he was S.T.A.R.S, Nikolai pondered.

Leon took a deep breath, "T-thanks!"

As the young man holstered his gun and swiped the back of his palm over his clammy forehead, Nikolai took a moment to assess him more thoroughly. 

He couldn't have been out of his mid-20s. He had a baby-ish face, puffy cheeks and peachy skin that betrayed the seriousness of his uniform... As did the silly, wispy long hair that framed his face. It couldn't have been regulation, Nikolai thought. But after what he'd seen with the girlish parties and insecure information, he wasn't surprised these _American police_ didn't have any respect for what should have been military-strict dress.

After a moment of silence and recuperation, he began to speak.

"My name is Leon Kennedy. I'm a police officer." His voice was a bit more even now, as though he were putting on a mask of respectability, "Are you hurt? I can help yo-"

Nikolai couldn't let him finish his thought. He tossed his head back and began to laugh so loudly the small chunk of oatmeal bar he'd just bitten off almost flew out of his mouth. 

Leon stammered, clearly confused about the response he'd received. Nikolai could feel the boy's eyes finally giving him a proper look-over, combing up from the tips of his boots.

"A-are you military?" 

"Sure." Nikolai said, sighing in amusement. He stuffed the remainder of the oatmeal bar in his mouth before turning and walking back towards the desks, intent on continuing his rummaging. He could still feel Leon's eyes on him.

"Sorry. I mean are you... _our_ military?"

"Sure."

"W-with all due respect, I don't quite think you seem like... ah..."

Nikolai shot a glare at the younger man, blue eyes narrowing dangerously.

"What? You think Russians can't be Americans?" He said, hiding his own entertainment behind a mask of stoicism, "Racist!"

Leon peeped, "No. No, that's not what I meant. I just-- I mean... _are you_?"

"No." Nikolai said casually as he dumped a drawer out onto the floor, sorting at the contents with his boot.

He heard Leon grunt and scoff, "Listen -- I don't know who you are or why you're here but... but-- I'm a police officer. And there's not many survivors out there. If you want to work together, we can help each other get out of here alive."

When Nikolai didn't respond, Leon huffed indignantly. 

He watched him out of the corner of his eye, looking around the room before sauntering over to a gated documents area. He tugged at the metal for a moment, peering through the gate when the door wouldn't relent.

"Have you been in here yet?" He asked, as though he hadn't just been mocked and ignored. He was so naive it was almost sad.

Nikolai sighed, realising begrudgingly the at the very minimum he should try to see if the boy had any use.

"Locked. You wouldn't happen to have a way to open it, would you?"

Leon seemed surprised when he got the other man to speak, rummaging through his hip pouches quickly, "M-maybe. I collected lots of stuff."

Nikolai watched intently as he began to try out various USB and card keys on the electronic lock, squeaking in excitement when one finally worked.

Leon opened the small document cage, stepping inside and looking around curiously. Nikolai quickly followed, slipping behind him and eyeing the shelves of classified documents curiously. 

One binder simply titled ** _ARKLAY, MARCH_** caught his attention, and he pulled it from the shelf and began to flip through it as Leon wrestled with boxes of items.

Without a word, Nikolai stepped out of the locker, still holding the binder, and pulled the door shut behind him. He continued to flip through as Leon began to realise his predicament, pulling at the door from the inside.

"H-hey.. Uh... I t-think you-you closed it by accident."

Leaning against a nearby desk, Nikolai sorted through the photographs in the binder, smiling when he came across one which clearly depicted Sergei and an Ivan walking through the Arklay forest. He slipped the photo from its plastic pocket and stuffed it into one of his pouches, thinking his friend would find it amusing. He was always the photogenic one.

"E-excuse me?"

Nikolai pursed his lips and read through some of the notes the S.T.A.R.S had collected, entertained with some of the conclusions so confidently written out. Correct, most of them, but amusing nonetheless. 

"S-sir...?"

Nikolai's eyes flicked upwards. He tossed the binder aside nonchalantly as he finally addressed the younger man. Leon's little fingers were clutching at the grates of the cage, his eyebrow furrowed in confusion and anxiety. 

The way he said _Sir_ \-- it was cute.

"T-the key is right there, see?" Leon pointed at the USB dongle hanging out of the slot, "Just press it in again and... it should... open."

"Oh? Should it?" Nikolai asked in faux-curiosity, a sadistic smirk pulling his lips away from his teeth.

"Y-yes. I think s-so."

Nikolai rose from the desk with a grunt, outstretching his hands and shrugging casually, "What's the rush? Do you have somewhere to be?"

Leon swallowed so hard it was almost audible, his Adams apple bobbing over the high collar of the grey shirt beneath his uniform as he watched the man saunter closer closely. 

Nikolai leaned in, placing his nose a childish inch away from his side of the cage.

"Ask me politely and I might open it for you, little police boy." He purred quietly.

Leon's eyes widened, the dark blue orbs quivering slightly with realisation. 

"L-look. I don't know who you are. But-but there's a thing out there! A huge-- **_man_**! And it--"

"A huge man?" Nikolai interrupted, eyebrow cocking upwards. 

"Yeah!"

"Very tall? A long coat? Strong jawline?" Nikolai asked, reading off some of the usual indications that one of Sergei's clone tyrants was running amok.

"Y... yes."

Nikolai rolled his eyes with a chuckle like he were telling himself an inside joke, " _Polkovnik_ , you _prankster_."

Leon's cheek twitched in confusion. He licked his rapidly drying lips, attempting to plead with the older man again.

"P-please, j-just let me out." He said, trying not to sound pathetic.

"Please? Please what?"

"Please let me out!" Leon repeated. But Nikolai shook his head.

"Say that word again... The one that starts with an _ **S**_." The Russian hinted, his predatory smile returning.

Leon thought for a moment, racing, stressed mind fully diminishing his capability to think clearly.

"Y-you want me to beg? Beg for my l-life?" His brow furrowed deeper, dropping one hand down towards his belt with whatever degree of covertness he could muster, "What's wrong with you!? Who are you!?"

Nikolai sighed deeply, casually pulling out his SIGpro and holding it at his side, "Don't even _think_ about touching your holster. You have five seconds."

"Why?! Why are you doing this?!" Leon became frantic, pulling his hand away from his holster immediately.

"Five..."

"What?!"

"Four..." Nikolai counted carefully, voice seeping with annoyance, "Three..."

Leon squeaked, fingers clutching at the cage tighter.

"Two..." Nikolai cocked the hammer of his gun loudly, rolling his shoulder back like he were getting ready to aim.

"Okay! Okay!" Leon yelped, "Okay!"

The older man stopped counting, eyebrow raised in expectation. 

Leon took a deep breath, blathering as quickly as he could as though to get it over with faster.

"P-please let me out..." He grit his teeth, "Sir."

Nikolai rolled his eyes, completely unimpressed with the half-assed attempt, "That's what you want to bargain for your life with? Do you value yourself so little? Again -- this time, with the passion of someone who ** _wants_** to live!"

Leon felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He almost felt like vomiting, internally cursing himself for having let his guard down for even one minute. Maybe his sister was right -- maybe he was too soft to be a police officer. 

"Please. Sir... Please let me out."

"Again."

"P-please let me out, Sir!"

Nikolai sighed contently when he saw a crystalline drop drip down Leon's check, the boy's pink lips quivering ever-so-slightly as he spoke.

Yes. The way he said _Sir_ did sound cute. It was igniting all of the sensations in his belly he didn't need ignited right now.

"Okay." Nikolai uncocked his weapon, "I will."

That little bit of hope that swelled up in Leon's eyes was life-sustaining, and Nikolai decided he wanted to treat himself to it again later. Nikolai reached for the USB, and unceremoniously plucked it from the drive, shoving it in his pocket for safekeeping. Leon gasped in horror.

"But first, I have some errands to run." 

"N-no! No! Please!"

Nikolai turned on the heels of his boots, and marched towards the exit, whistling a chipper tune to drown out the fading sobs of desperation from the younger man.


	3. Chapter 3

_1998, Post-Raccoon City Destruction Incident_

"I have to... I have to find... I have to find _Claire_. She's... she's all alone..." Leon bit back a cry, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He jerked at his restraints and buried his face in his own bicep. His cheeks were red hot with shame and wet with tears. "P-please..." 

He flinched when a hand touched his cheek. The caress was achingly gentle, though, and Leon was _starving_ for affection, had been for years. He leaned into the touch, sobbing. The next cry spilled from his lips, wild and overwhelmed as his body tried to arch off the bed, tried to bend in half. Beyond his ragged breathing and sniffles was the constant low buzz of something vibrating. 

"Claire this, Claire that," crooned the man sitting on the bed near him. "You worry too much about others, little lion. That will get you killed. Who should you worry about?" 

This was practiced. Learned. Leon had spent days memorizing this script. His tongue rolled over bruised, chapped lips, heavy bags under his glazed, damp eyes. He couldn't remember the last time Nikolai had let him _sleep_. Every time he was about to fall unconscious, Nikolai would shoot him up with epinephrine or shock him, forcing his exhausted, rundown body into an adrenalized state. His heart was going _crazy_ and his thoughts were dizzy and neither of these things were _entirely_ to blame on the sexual pleasure Nikolai was forcing on him. 

Even with his tattered mind, he managed to find what he knew Nikolai wanted to hear. "I... sh-should worry... about m-me... Self-p... Self-preserv-v...vation... Self-preservation." 

Nikolai ran his fingers through Leon's dirty hair. He had attempted to give Leon a bath three days ago, but Leon had made the stubborn attempt to drown himself. It had been a downgrade since the shower attempt five days ago when Leon had attempted to drown _Nikolai_. Leon was giving up on getting free. 

Nikolai brushed his thumb over Leon's bottom lip and the boy gasped, head tilting back and unfocused eyes slipping shut. With a harsh, animal scream, Leon's cock jerked and his entire body went tight in a dry, agonizing orgasm. Leon wailed in pain, struggling against his binds. He suddenly went still again, eyes wide. 

"P-please, I need.... I need to u-u-use the restroom... I'm gonna..." He wriggled and writhed, but his ankles were tight to opposing ends of the footboard and his wrists to opposing ends of the headboard. As he twisted and flinched, he only managed to change the angle of the toy inside of him without getting free of it. 

Nikolai watched with a smirk as Leon squeezed his eyes shut in humiliation, teeth gritted. 

"Does your toy feel good against your bladder?" Nikolai asked cheekily. "Are you going to piss yourself, little lion?" 

"P-please... I don't want to... I don't..." 

There was the shame of being forced to enjoy his own rape. The shame of being forced to say things that went against his own moral code. The shame of being abused by another man, one that he had foolishly thought he could trust back in the Raccoon City Police Department - and Leon wished he had known that Nikolai could not be trusted, he wished he had foreseen the very cruel and torturous Hell Nikolai would drag him into, he wished he had never let his guard down, he wished, he wished, he _wished_ \- and then there was this shame... The continuous shame of Nikolai forcing him to lose control of his bodily functions. 

Loss of toilet rights was not the worst thing to happen to Leon since Nikolai dragged him out of Raccoon City - wasn't even the worst thing to happen to him since he _went_ to Raccoon City - but it was one humiliation on top of a mountain of other humiliations and another reminder that Leon had absolutely no control of the situation or himself. 

Nikolai got to dictate when Leon was allowed off the bed. Nikolai got to dictate when Leon was allowed to have basic necessities. Nikolai got to dictate when Leon was allowed to stop cumming, when Leon was allowed to sleep, when Leon was allowed to be clean, when Leon was allowed to eat or drink. 

Leon stared up at him pleadingly, but Nikolai only smiled back at him with all teeth. "Doesn't it feel good, little lion?" he asked again, voice low. "To just let go and let someone else take care of you? Look at you..." He drifted his fingertips lightly over Leon's chest, across swollen nipples and stark bite marks that Nikolai had peppered there and everywhere else he wanted. Bruises looked good on Leon. Sobbing, the boy pushed into his touch, skin shivering and glistening. "You were made for this. You were made for pleasure, weren't you? For _my_ pleasure." 

"No, please, no... No... No, no, no..." He lost control of his bladder, unable to stop from making a mess of his belly and the blankets below him. "Don't look!" He felt small and weak.

Leon remembered suddenly, vividly, what had happened the last time he had wet the bed. He had been seven and had fallen asleep to the sound of his dad screaming at his mom. He'd had twisted and dark nightmares that he couldn't remember when he woke up, but the bed had been soaked and his pajamas had smelled bad and stuck wetly to his skin. His mom had tried to get him clean before his dad saw him, but - 

That was Leon's dad. He missed nothing. He had beaten Leon so hard with his belt that the lashes had scarred, the edge of leather cutting through layers of skin. 

Now that he had had no choice, he prepared himself for another beating. He kept his face turned away, not wanting to see what this new and even crueler man would do to him for the mess, a mess that Nikolai _made_ him make. 

But there was only a gentle touch... Nikolai crooned. "You made that look so difficult. Wasn't hard at all, was it, little lion?" He pressed a kiss to Leon's forehead and Leon felt as if someone had just pushed him off a cliff. "You did what I wanted you to do," Nikolai said. "So now I will take care of you." 

This felt important. This felt like the new definition of Leon's existence. If he did what Nikolai told him to do, he would take care of Leon. 

Leon's face trembled as he tried fervently to stop crying. "C-can I... please... have a sh-shower?" He was barely breathing, or maybe he was breathing too fast. He wasn't sure. The toy he had woken up to had two parts: a bullet that massaged his prostate mercilessly and then an attachment that vibrated against his perineum, stimulating his prostate from the outside. The way it was hooked into his body made escaping the attack impossible and his prostate felt like it was on _fire_. He felt raw and wounded, his belly cramping and stitching as if he had been running for miles. The muscles of his thighs felt like they were locked into place and his feet ached from how hard he had been flexing them, trying to draw his legs in and failing. Everything hurt and nothing felt good, and yet he was leaning his body into Nikolai's touch, chasing it. Nikolai touched him the way Leon had always wanted to be touched, and Leon hated it. 

"P-please," he begged. "A sh-sh-shower?" 

"Who are you asking?" 

Leon's hazel eyes met Nikolai's strange pale green stare. Leon went limp in defeat. "P-please, s-sir..."

"Ah, ah... not that one."

Leon's throat clicked as he swallowed. "... B... _baby_... Please, b-baby... I need... need a shower...." He needed water. His mouth was a desert and his head was throbbing with pain and dehydration. 

"You look so good when you call me that," Nikolai praised him. "You sound sexy as fuck... When you call me 'baby', it makes me very happy. You make me happy? I make you happy." 

He pressed a button on the tiny remote in his other hand and Leon stopped breathing as the vibrations came to a ceasefire. His nerves still buzzed, and his prostate burned horribly, but the rest of his body went blissfully numb. 

He began crying in earnest, overwhelmed and tired and unable to function. Nikolai undid the thick leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles and then lifted Leon up into his arms, carrying him to the attached bathroom. Leon could only let his limbs hang uselessly, sore and tired and dizzy. Nikolai sat him on the toilet seat and started filling the large oval tub with warm water. As it began to fill up, he took a wash cloth and dampened it, tenderly wiping Leon down as if the idea of causing him harm had never occurred to him. 

Leon shivered, wet and cold and confused. Nikolai took his hands in his own and brought them around his shoulders, pulling until Leon was leaning against his chest, arms wrapping around him. 

"My little lion is doing well," Nikolai burred. "Tomorrow, you start learning Russian."

Nikolai was warm... so very warm. And he smelled... good. Smoke and wood like a campfire. Leon's eyes slipped shut...

He woke up minutes later, coughing and gargling, as he shot up out of the water. 

"Oh? Were you sleeping?" Nikolai asked, stripping by the side of the tub. Leon swung his head from side to side, wild with panic. Nikolai had dumped him in the full tub. "I didn't notice," Nikolai lied. Naked, he slipped into the tub behind Leon, ignoring his flinches and broken whines. 

"Here, let me wash your hair," Nikolai breathed into his ear. Leon held himself as one line of tension, staring straight ahead. His back was to Nikolai's chest and the older man's legs caged him in. Leon was too weak to fight back and his thoughts echoed with what Nikolai had done to him the last time he had made a break for it. 

He stayed still as Nikolai soaped up his hair. But, oh, that felt good... Nikolai massaged his scalp, tilted his head back so that no soap got into his eyes... 

Leon was half-asleep again before he was even aware that he was lulling back against Nikolai, head on the older man's shoulder as Nikolai caressed his temples. Calloused fingers began to swirl in circles over his jaw, down his neck, across his aching chest... down under the water, inching toward the apex of his hips. 

Leon jerked, whimpering, as those hands hooked his legs over Nikolai's and the man splayed him wide open. 

"Please... it hurts." 

Nikolai kissed his cheek. "Isn't pain the sweetest pleasure?" 

Leon cried as Nikolai thrust inside of him. The water was not a good lubricant at all and his hole felt like it was going to rip as Nikolai's fat head popped inside of him. 

And the burn... the horrible burn as Nikolai began to thrust up into him, his hands on Leon's hips, felt... so... _good_. 

Leon weakly waved one hand in the air until he found purchase, fingers squeezing the bowl of Nikolai's skull as the older man used his body for his own pleasure. The water moved in agitated waves, lapping at his skin, spilling over the sides of the tub. 

Nikolai's teeth dug into the juncture of Leon's neck and shoulder and Leon... Leon hated it. 

_He hated how much he he was learning to need it._


	4. Chapter 4

_1998_

"Was this really your first day?"

"Y-yeah."

"Poor thing! Didn't even get a pay check yet."

Leon scoffed, trying to keep the older man's pace as he was walked through the halls of the station. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he'd been stripped of the utility belts -- most of them discarded, some of them thieved of their contents and stuffed into Nikolai's pockets. 

Nikolai had returned to the S.T.A.R.S office after a few hours, looking entirely smug at the relief that had washed over Leon's face when their eyes met once again. Leon had been sure the Russian was either going to leave him there, or get himself killed somewhere in the city and be unable to retrieve him. Either way, he'd settled on the fact he was going to starve to death in that cage, and had sobbed his way through that thought multiple times before Nikolai had returned. 

He had asked where Nikolai was taking him. Why Nikolai was taking him. To what end. For what purpose. The man hadn't given any answers other than smarmy jeers or non-answers. But still, he persisted. 

"I have no information to give you -- I'm a nobody." He blathered, wriggling his shoulder away from Nikolai's tight grip on the fabric there.

"I know." 

"S-so why?!" 

Again, no answer.

"If you're going to fucking _kidnap me_ the least you could do is--"

**_STOMP STOMP STOMP_ **

Leon froze instantaneously, body freezing with such automatic terror that Nikolai wasn't even able to continue to pull him forward and stumbled slightly.

The din of heavy boots and clatter of buckles was profound and drawing closer with every second, so ominous that Leon didn't understand the blasé expression on Nikolai's face. 

"I-it's..." Leon's eyes darted around, "W-we have to go!"

"Oh, stop being a baby!" Nikolai rolled his eyes.

"C-can you not hear that?!" Leon snapped, jerking roughly and trying to escape Nikolai's clutch on the fabric of his shoulder. But still, Nikolai held him in place.

On cue, a door at the far end of the hall they were in swung open. The knob smashed into the opposing wall, cracking through the drywall like a wrecking ball through a paper mache sculpture.

Leon squeaked in fear when the trenchcoatted tyrant wiggled its way through the too-small doorframe, resuming his efforts to run from Nikolai. Despite the impending threat, the man was cool, collected. His silver brow cocked above his eye in curiosity, grip tightening on Leon's clothes.

"P-please! Sh-shoot it!" Leon whined, heart beating so firmly on the inside of his chest that he almost felt like it was going to break through his ribcage. Perhaps, he thought, he'd just have a heart attack and die. That might be a preferable fate to whatever psychotic dimension he'd just entered with the strange Russian. Perhaps, he thought some more, that's what Nikolai wanted. 

The grey-fleshed beast began to stalk closer, empty eyes focused on Leon. The young man was mewling in fear, but unable to get away. And even if he had, he knew he wouldn't have the use of his hands and would be a ripe fruit ready for the plucking. 

" ** _PLEASE DO SOMETHING_**!" He screeched, the tyrant now mere metres away.

Nikolai snorted in amusement at Leon's pathetic cry for help, clearing his throat and tilting his chin up a bit higher.

" _Ostanovka_!" He barked quickly.

Leon peeped in surprise, eyes widening as the tyrant stopped in its tracks almost immediately. The tremendous beast flicked its gaze over towards Nikolai, deep breaths rolling from its nose like a wildebeest. It made a sound, something between a primitive grunt and scoff, like it were confused even by its own reaction to Nikolai's order. 

Leon turned to Nikolai in shock. The man had a right smug smirk on his face.

He casually lifted his other hand to his ear, and began speaking. 

"Sergei?"

A second of silence passed, Nikolai sighing loudly. 

Both Leon and the trenchcoatted tyrant were left as spare wheels to a conversation Nikolai began with whatever discreet earpiece he was communicating through. He spoke in quick Russian, face teetering between amused and exasperated.

Nikolai paused, listening to whatever the person on the other line was saying. Curiously, he turned to look at Leon, dark blue eyes scanning Leon's uniform. He used his grip on the younger man's shoulder to turn him side to side. 

" _Da. Da. Spasiba_."

Nikolai lowered his hand from his ear after falling silent, reaching down to the utility belt on his upper thigh and unsheathing a knife. Without a word, the older man began unceremoniously slicing away at the fabric of Leon's uniform. Leon was wide-eyed, mouth gaped in shock as he watched pieces of his uniform drop to the floor in quick strokes.

"W-what are you--"

"It is your uniform that is upsetting him." Nikolai grunted, "His function is being triggered by the uniform."

Shred by shred, Nikolai tore Leon's uniform off while the rookie could do nothing more than whimper, eyes still quivering towards the tyrant curiously staring them down as he was steadily stripped of his bulletproof vest and uniform shirt. 

When Nikolai reached the white, long-sleeve thermal Leon was wearing beneath his blue dress shirt, he paused for a moment. His eyes scanned the fabric, looking for any traces of an RPD logo. 

"T-this is mine. It's not... part of the uniform..."

"Ah." Nikolai sniffed, a tiny smirk creeping across his thin lips, "Well. Better safe than sorry."

Leon peeped pathetically as Nikolai began to cut in spite of the protest. His sharp knife sliced like butter through the cheap shirt, easily shredding it from his body in a few, masterful strokes. Leon shivered when his bare skin was exposed to the cold air in the station. Cheeks flushing a dark red, he could feel his nipples beginning to respond to the temperature change -- hardening the little buds into tight, bundled up pebbles.

With a casual snap of his wrist, Nikolai flicked the edge of his blade against a nipple quickly, sending a ragged tremor down Leon's back.

"Cute." Nikolai licked his lips, to which Leon's blush only grew darker.

Nikolai's smirk only set itself deeper at Leon's disdain, dark gaze glimmering with a sadistic sparkle that made Leon uncomfortable. The older man's eyes seemed to assess his hairless, porcelain chest curiously, the orbs combing over the youthful contours of his lacklustre muscles from the top of his belt to the base of his neck.

A deep inhalation passed up Nikolai's nose as his eyes lingered on Leon's delicate collarbone for a second longer than it should have. 

The silver-haired mercenary turned towards the tyrant, barking again in Russian while presenting Leon like some sort of evidence that its _services_ were no longer needed.

" _Khorosho. Ukhodite_!"

The tyrant stood a bit straighter, rolling its shoulders back with a beastly huff. It then casually stalked past them both, staring down at Leon with discontented eyes as it did. The younger man could only gape in shock, almost unable to believe what had just happened as he watched the massive creature begin to ascend the stairs behind them as though they didn't exist at all.

"H-how did you--"

Nikolai interrupted his question by snatching his shoulder once again, pushing him forward with a casual shove.

"Come on."

\---

Nikolai led him across town to the Raccoon City Hospital.

It was a long, arduous walk down dark alleyways and shattered streets -- Leon complaining the entire way about his legs hurting, or his chilliness, or his confusion, or his wrists, or his shoulder _or, or, or_. Nikolai had largely ignored him, effortlessly downing any creatures in their path that posed a threat, and landing perfect headshots nearly every time like he was showing off. 

When they arrived, Nikolai escorted him through the emergency triage doors. After a short journey into the hospital, they made a turn into what was clearly a chapel for the patients to use for prayer. Nikolai ushered him inside after checking it for threats and confirming it was empty. 

Once inside, he closed the door firmly behind them and took a deep sigh. 

"It should be safe in here. The creatures can't get through doors." He mused, looking around at the various religious decorations. 

"Oh, great! Now I only have to worry about the _psychopath_ who is _kidnapping_ me." Leon chirped sarcastically, shuffling over towards a radiator which still appeared to be emanating heat. He was absolutely freezing, having been stripped from the waist up and forced to waltz through a chilly Raccoon City October's night. He curled his body around the warm iron, sniffling and trying to make his discontent known.

"What do you even want from me?" Leon attempted his question again, trying not to sound pathetic. 

"I am rescuing you."

"Rescuing me! From what?! I was fine bef--"

"You were locked in a cage in the Police Station. I rescued you from the cage."

Leon gasped in disbelief, "What?! ** _YOU_** put me in the c--"

Before he could snap around to bark at the older man, he felt warm fingers wrap around his cuffed wrists. He squeaked at the touch, standing straight immediately only to bump his shoulder blades into Nikolai's chest -- the man somehow having slithered up behind him without making a single sound.

"I am making sure you survive." Nikolai purred, "You should be thankful."

Leon audibly swallowed, his Adams apple scraping against the inside of his neck as it bobbed. He could feel Nikolai's thumbs playing along the veins jutting up from his wrists, digits sliding up and down them like they were thin trails. A blush was beginning to blossom on his cheeks.

"W-wh-what are y--"

"Daddy has some work to do." Nikolai's voice was low, throaty. Leon's ear tickled as his breath caressed it, making him shiver. "You stay here and be a good boy, _da_?"

**_click_ **

Leon's eyes dropped down to see his wrist was now cuffed to the radiator. Quickly, he pulled his other hand from behind his back, wiggling his fingers in the shock of the realisation that one of his hands was now free. He hadn't even felt the older man uncuffing him. 

He spun to see Nikolai had moved away, and was lingering by the pan of holy water near the door. He was investigating the wooden stand it was on, the cabinet-like box having door hinges on the front. Nikolai popped the door open by pressing it inwards, revealing a large jug of water was stored inside of it. 

Nikolai took a quick sip from it before leaving the bottle within Leon's reach and disappearing out of the door without another word. 

\--

Though the water had tasted stale, Leon had drank the two-litre jug quickly after a brief, mental resistance to doing so. 

He wanted to protest his circumstances. He most certainly didn't want to accept anything Nikolai had offered him. But in the end, his own exhaustion and cotton-lined mouth had won out and he'd eagerly slurped down the contents of the bottle while seated on the floor, curled against the warm radiator like a cat.

Alone with his thoughts in the dim chapel, Leon wondered how Claire was holding up. Oh, how desperately he wanted her to suddenly turn up and save him -- an ironic twist of fate considering how much he'd been keen on trying to rescue _her_ but a few hours ago. He couldn't believe the pathetic mess he'd wound up in, all because he'd taken a wrong turn down a corridor in the RPD building and _happened_ to cross paths with the Russian lunatic. 

Fate seemed to despise him. His first day of work and the city he was assigned to plummets into an apocalyptic hell. His second, and he's kidnapped while trying to just survive the apocalyptic hell. 

Nikolai frightened him as much as he frustrated him. He didn't understand who the man was, who he worked for, how he knew so much about the beasts that crawled the city, and - most importantly - _what he wanted from him_.

At first, he'd perhaps thought the man had mistaken him for someone far more important. Perhaps someone with inside information on RPD, S.T.A.R.S, or the Mayor's Office. But Nikolai had patently denied that thought repeatedly, one of the few admissions he was willing to make. Leon had then thought Nikolai wanted to use him as a human shield, or feed him to some awful monster -- but Nikolai had done nothing but protect him while they were out in the city, keeping him close and falling enemies on his own. 

Leon didn't want to put the pieces together the way they were fitting, but he had no choice. 

The way Nikolai looked at him. The way he touched him. The way he spoke to him. The man was like a neanderthaloid caveman lugging away a female to mate with. It made him anxious as he drew things out to their logical conclusion.

He squeaked when the door opened, at first unable to see what was entering. He hated that he was relieved it was just Nikolai.

 _Just_ Nikolai.

The man grinned as he poked his head around the corner, turning to close the door behind him.

"I'm not gay!" Leon blurted, almost involuntarily. 

Nikolai chuckled as he entered the aisles. There were bloodstains on his clothes -- fresh ones. It clearly wasn't his blood. 

"Neither am I." 

Leon swallowed, awkwardly moving to stand up as Nikolai approached him. 

"O-oh. But..."

"But what?" Nikolai cocked a silver eyebrow, making quick work of Leon's cuffed wrist and casually turning him by a shoulder to re-cuff his other. Leon hadn't even bothered to put up a fight, still bumbling in his confusion.

"I thought-- you-- you..." Leon's face glowed a bright red as he failed to materialise the words which would evidence his suspicion. He quickly gave up, sick of the entertained look that was growing brighter on Nikolai's face. "C-can you take me to a bathroom? Before we leave? Please? I have to go."

Nikolai pursed his lips, putting on a babyish mew, "Number one or number two?"

Leon scoffed, "F-fuckin-- are you serious?"

"There are more monsters out there than before. My little... side job resulted in some noise that attracted them." Nikolai said, "I'd rather not risk it if possible."

"Oh...Well... N-number one..." He murmured quietly, looking around at the religious icons decorating the walls, "I guess I can just do it here... Feels kinda' wrong though."

Nikolai nodded, "I agree. Sacrilegious."

Leon didn't like the rumble in his voice. Not one, singular bit.

He squeaked stupidly when Nikolai abruptly dropped to his knees before him, the older man's fingers expertly working at his zipper. He tugged it down and slipped his fingers inside the opening, prodding them through the fabric slip of Leon's underwear.

"N-no! W-wait! What are y-you doing?!" Leon shrieked, wiggling and writhing.

"Perhaps it will bring bad luck if you defile such a place." Nikolai spoke with the same level of nonchalance one would use while considering what brand of bread to buy, "Let us be cautious, _da_?"

Leon gasped in horror as Nikolai gently tugged his flaccid cock from his pants, holding the organ firmly at its base.

"N-no! No! W-what--"

"You ask too many questions! Just piss so we can go." Nikolai rolled his eyes, as though what he was doing was no more than an errand. He opened his smiling lips, bottom lip just barely grazing Leon's cock.

The young man's entire body shook, belly fluttering and cramping. He tried to back away, but he was already jutted against the radiator. Worse yet, his need to drain his bladder was getting worse with the pressure of his cringing muscles. Internally, he was screaming at himself for having drank that damned bottle.

"F-fuck! Fuck y-you!" He squeaked, clenching his eyes shut as he felt a short, involuntary stream of urine trickle from him. He tried to clench himself, trying to stop any further discharge as pinpricks scratched at the corners of his eyelids. A short burst of release only made the sensation to go far worse.

Leon heard a loud swallow. A husky rasp.

"Surely that can't be all?"

Leon almost sobbed when he felt Nikolai's lips comb the underside of his glans, the man positioning the head of his cock deeper in his opened mouth. As though his body gave up -- too drawn by the allure of his initial stream -- his bladder began to empty itself.

The sound of the liquid pouring into the hollow of Nikolai's mouth made Leon want to scream. He steeled his jaw and tried to block out the disconcerting noise, but he couldn't. Even though his eyes were firmly shut, it was as though every other part of him was solely focused on the man at his feet, drinking his piss. He could almost see it, in the black voids of his gaze -- that little smirk, those ever-so-slightly flushed pale cheeks. A part of him, one that picked up a rustling sound, was loudly announcing that the man's hand was playing along some piece of the fabric of his own uniform. Perhaps his groin. Perhaps his thigh. Perhaps something innocent like his pocket. He refused to open his eyes to look.

By the time his bladder was empty, a few tears had started to dribble down his cheeks. He sniffled pathetically as he waited for the final _gulp --_ one that was accompanied immediately by a contented sigh.

"I thought yo-you said-- you just sai-said you weren't g-gay." Leon's teeth were practically clattering. His eyes slowly fluttered open, glassy blue aiming downwards.

"I'm not." Nikolai smirked, licking his lips, "I was just thirsty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes from AA0:
> 
> Sergei Vladimir was a character in RE:UC, and the lore behind him canonically suggests he was the prototype for basically most tyrants (but especially the humanoid T-models). So the interaction between Mr. X and Nikolai is based on that.


	5. Chapter 5

_2014_

The good news was that the antidote worked. The bad news was that Rebecca was very likely going to die before she could tell anyone.

Dr. Rebecca Chambers had never been much of a fighter. This was not to say that she _couldn't_ fight - she had not survived this long by cowering every time the odds were against her! - but that she would try to avoid one whenever she could. Working in a research lab studying manmade viruses had been doing her just fine. Until, suddenly, it wasn't. 

After self-administering a cure, she very nearly met her end at the hungry maws and grappling hands of her colleagues and friends as they mindlessly haunted the university halls, thoughtless beyond their most basic instinct to feed and to spread their infection. Exhausted of resources, she felt more helpless than she had in over a decade as a zombie toppled toward her. She flinched away and that - that was when the shooting started. 

In the time it took her to open her eyes, the zombies were inanimate. Their still corpses littered the linoleum with dark, uncongealed blood drippling from head shots. Her eyes crawled from the floor to outside the shattered observation window where a single man stood - a man she had never seen before. 

He was wearing... exceptionally tight leather pants, Rebecca noticed in a daze. And a thick leather collar around his neck with matching leather wrist guards that had D-rings stitched into the inner wrists of them. Her mind could not fathom what those rings were there for. He was wearing a... a very nice button-down shirt that looked smooth and shimmery. Silk? 

In her state of surprise, Rebecca was finding that she was most confused by the fact that this man was not wearing a uniform of any kind. It was as if this man had lazily strolled from some nearby BDSM club into her work environment with a gun, only to shoot down zombies. 

This man was definitely, Rebecca's mind managed to conclude after a handful of seconds, not from any agency she knew of. She should be just as careful with him as she had been with the zombies. _No_. She should be even _more_ careful. The zombies had been mindless and predictable. 

She had no idea what this man wanted. 

The man did another sweep down both ends of the corridor and throughout the lab with his pistol before he slipped it under his shirt. Why did he put the pistol under his shirt? She could clearly make out the shape of the gun against his chest. A chest holster? What the _hell?_

"Dr. Rebecca Chambers? A pleasure to meet you." The man casually stepped through the shattered window and approached her. He didn't hold out a hand for her to shake and she didn't offer hers either. 

"Hi," she replied dully. Wearily. "Would you... would you happen to know... what is going on right now?" 

The man glanced at the bodies and then at the synthesizing equipment throughout the lab. "The short answer is yes." 

She cocked her eyebrows imploringly. "And... the long answer?" 

The man looked at her with clear hazel eyes, a hint of a smile on his lips that was not amused but also not cruel. "You're very good at your job," he answered. "And that really pisses some people off." 

"Would _you_ be one of the people I happen to be... pissing off?" 

"I represent a business entity that likes you just where you are," the man answered. "Congrats, consider me your guardian angel." 

"I always thought guardian angels would wear more white." 

"White's not really my color." 

She offered a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "May I know the name of your business entity?" 

"I'll do you one better. Dr. Rebecca Chambers, I am now taking you into protective custody. Your research has been vital to us in understanding how to treat and counteract manmade viruses." 

"You're not with the American government." She took a step back as he took one forward. "And you're not B.S.A.A..." 

"Good eyes on you." 

Another step back. He took another step forward. 

She swallowed thickly, jaw clenched. "You don't have the right to take me into custody." 

"I didn't say I have the right." He shrugged one shoulder. "Just said I was going to do it." 

She lunged for a nearby desktop computer to hurl at him. He was faster. 

She yelped as something pricked the back of her neck. In a moment, she was woozy. Her legs shook beneath her. 

"Please," she whispered. "Please... Don't... don't do this..." 

The man wrapped one arm around her back and the other under her knees and easily lifted her up against his chest. "I don't know what _you_ think is going to happen," he drawled wryly. "But you really don't need to be begging right now. I already belong to someone else, so you should stop sounding like something bad is about to happen to you." 

"Where... are... you... taking me?" 

"Somewhere safe, Dr. Chambers. Where you can continue your research in peace without worrying about dumbasses ruining your hard work. How's that sound?" 

Her thoughts were dizzy. She barely clung to consciousness as he swept them toward the furthest exit. She had a moment of concern - his hands were full carrying her and she certainly was in no condition to shoot, so how was he going to fight if they came across another zombie? - and then emotions began to flitter away. He wasn't the least bit worried, at least, and their departure went unhindered. She saw, vaguely, with graying vision, that the floor was littered with her friends and coworkers. 

She saw a blonde woman in leather, but she was so weak and confused that she wasn't sure if the woman was real or not. The woman's head, she realized blearily, trying to focus on this stranger, was some distance from the rest of her body. 

"Sweet dreams, Dr. Chambers," the man said. 

It was the last thing she heard before she at last could not stay awake any longer. 

~:~

Dr. Rebecca Chambers, Leon knew, was somewhere safe now. He didn't ask for details - he'd leave that up to Nikolai - and wasn't particularly worried over her fate. She was more valuable to Umbrella alive than dead, so at least she had that going for her. If she wanted to keep it that way, she'd learn fast about how to behave. 

He'd learned. He was happier now for it, for having been found by Nikolai, by having Nikolai own him. 

He couldn't imagine his life without Nikolai. 

He couldn't imagine his life without _this_.

 _This,_ his wrists secured to the bars of the headboard by the D-rings in his gauntlets, hands squeezed into helpless fists. Naked otherwise except for the heavy barbells that pierced his nipples, that had been twisted and warmed by Nicholai's fingers, nipples that were now swollen and aching. His bare body covered in sweat, the air too humid as it moved through his heaving lungs. His eyes were shut tight, mouth a loose O of pleasure, chest and cheeks flushed red. 

He couldn't imagine his life anywhere else but here, with Nikolai.

The _slap_ of skin against skin, the squelch of lube and pre-cum, the scent of sex and musk in the air. That was intoxicating. That was so _good_.

Nikolai, bouncing on his lap, driving Leon somewhere between pleasure and agony, was incredible. There had been a time when he hadn't wanted this. Why hadn't he wanted this? He'd been such a dumbass.

Tears were leaking from the corners of his closed eyes. He was hypersensitive by this point, _burning_ in his belly with how much he felt. His thighs were shaking, legs jolting even though he refused to move them from where Nicholai had gently pressed them into the mattress. His meaning had been clear: _Do not move_. 

Leon did not move, even though he wanted to. He wanted to return even a little fraction of the pleasure Nikolai had given him. From the moment Nikolai had tied him down, the older man had been completely focused on his body - on marking him from ankles to knees to hips to ribs to chest to collarbone, all the way to the tips of his fingers. Sucking the digits into his mouth as he had twisted Leon's piercings, grey eyes dark and intent. He hadn't stopped with this perusal of Leon's body until he orgasmed in his underwear like a teenager. Only after that had Nikolai stripped them both completely bare and then climbed into Leon's lap, taking the younger man's cock into his body. 

Given that this was his second round, _of course_ Leon was sensitive. Of course he was crying. Nikolai loved to watch him cry during sex. He loved to listen to Leon sob, loved it when Leon teetered on the edge of sanity. That was why Nikolai kept slowing down whenever he knew Leon was close and then speeding up whenever he believed Leon was becoming too coherent for his liking. 

Leon was delirious with pleasure, with pain, with _need_. He _needed_ to cum! 

"P-please," he sobbed. "P-p-please, sir! S-sir! Baby, _please_. Hurts so _good_!" 

"Tell me how good it is," Nikolai purred. He slowed his pace again, swiveling his hips and grinding down hard. Leon wailed when Nikolai's ass squeezed around him, milking him. 

"You're so _soft_ and warm and _tight_ ," Leon babbled. "You feel so good, baby." Nikolai shuddered above him. He loved it when Leon called him "sir", but he was absolutely helpless when called "baby". Leon knew this. He had been trained to know this years ago. 

"In that case..." Nikolai planted his hands over Leon's pectorals, palms pushing barbells into raw nipples and making Leon cry out. He lifted his hips and fell back down into Leon's lap, fucking himself hard on Leon's furiously red and wet cock. "I will give my little lion what he wants. Because he is... so good to me..." Nikolai moaned, head tossed back. "Because my little lion... looks so pretty... when he cries!" 

Leon _wailed_ as he finally came, cock jerking in Nikolai's slick passage. He trembled through his orgasm, hips thrusting up against his will until every last drop of seed was inside Nicholai. 

Finally, Leon lost every bit of tension in his body and went completely lax into the mattress. His eyes drifted drowsily open as he gasped for breath. His toes twitched. His face felt hot and itchy from crying. 

He peeked up at Nikolai and was pleased to see the older man watching his face. Nikolai really did like how crying looked on Leon. Leon had learned to cry easily and often whenever he was alone with the older man, which was frequently. Nikolai was possessive of Leon. Leon belonged to him and Nikolai could be the only person Leon saw for weeks if not months on end if Umbrella didn't want to borrow Leon for something.

When he cried, Leon had learned a long time ago, Nikolai was more prone to spoil him. 

Another peek downward and he saw that Nikolai was still hard. He hadn't even orgasmed once yet.

"Sir?" Leon rasped, his voice a low, harsh thread of noise. "You want some help with that?" 

Nikolai grinned as he scooted up the bed on his knees until he was kneeling over Leon's chest. He caught his heavy dick in one hand and pointed the head at Leon's lips. "I would _love_ some help with this, my little lion." 

Leon gave some kittenish licks to the cockhead pressed against his lips. He was intimately familiar with this dick. He knew the shape and heft of it as much if not more than he knew his own. He definitely knew the taste and smell of Nicholai's manhood better than he knew his own. He'd been living on this cock for almost two decades. 

Still, Leon praised. "You're so _big_ , baby. Wish you would fuck me with your cock. Love how you split me open and wreck me." He licked from Nikolai's knuckles to the tip with the broad side of his tongue. "You gonna choke me, baby?" 

Nikolai shivered, ecstasy shimmering in his cold, cruel eyes. "You love choking on my cock," he rumbled. "Don't you, my little lion? Isn't that what your mouth is for, to suck dick? To suck _my_ dick?" He thrust forward, driving his penis into Leon's mouth.

Leon felt the corners of his lips tilt up as he let Nikolai fuck his throat. He'd had a gag reflex once, hadn't he? Not anymore. Nikolai had dedicatedly trained Leon to be good for him. The better Leon was for Nikolai, the better Nikolai treated him. And Leon was _very_ good for Nikolai. 

He hummed low in his chest as Nikolai's cockhead rammed down his throat. The angle was awkward, not good for deepthroating, but Nikolai managed to get far enough for his own liking. He cursed softly as he came, seed shooting down Leon's gullet. He reflexively swallowed, feeling as if Nikolai's seed was in his lungs, as if Nikolai's special kind of adoration was going to drown him. 

After a few more seconds, Nikolai pulled out and collapsed to the side of Leon. There was a delirious grin on his face, body loose and sated. Leon smiled himself at the sight of his happy lover. _He_ had done that. He had made Nikolai feel good. 

"So good to me, little lion," Nikolai praised. He shifted about until he was propped up on one elbow, smirking down at Leon. "You did very good." 

"Thank you, sir," Leon managed to breathe.

He was sure, wherever Rebecca was, that she was being treated just fine. 


End file.
